


Where the Lilacs Bloomed

by baeconandeggs, bbyrain



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, High School, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbyrain/pseuds/bbyrain
Summary: Beneath the first cherry blossoms in the year he turned nineteen, Byun Baekhyun found himself falling in love with the new art teacher, Mr Park. It felt wrong, incredibly so, yet the boy just couldn’t gaze away from the dazzling smile that resembled the moon and the stars.Could one’s first love ever fade away, like white lilac petals amidst the falling snow?
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 195
Kudos: 467
Collections: BAE2020





	Where the Lilacs Bloomed

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** BAE101  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading this story. I really enjoyed writing it, with much deserved acknowledgement to the lovely prompter, and the hardworking mods for making another amazing fest happen. A teacher student relationship has always been one of my guilty pleasures but I guess I ended up taking an approach that is closer to reality. Please, if you kindly may, drop a small comment below because that will really mean the world to me. And if anyone is interested, here is a list of songs that I played on repeat in while writing (the list is a little long):
> 
> One Summer’s Day (Joe Hisashi), If I were Young (Li Ronghao), Orange (7!!), The Name of Life (Joe Hisashi), My Truth ~ Rondo Capriccioso (ENA), We’ll be Alright (movie edit version, Radwimps), Shine On You (Younha), Two Confessions (Weathering with You), I Will (Chelsy), My Love (Baekhyun), Fireworks Festival (Weathering with You), Always With Me (cover by Zhou Shen), Is There Anything that Love Can Do (Radwimps).
> 
> Again, much sincerely from the entire depth of my heart, thank you for reading ❤︎

In a hidden corner of Itaewon where orange gleams escaped through the curtained windows of jazzy gay bars, a tiny convenience store rested beneath the buzzing street lamp. Inside, Byun Baekhyun mechanically stacked the tenth packet of cigarettes onto the store counter, as his yellow work vest brushed against its glassy surface. It was another sleepless night when the boy found his eyes aimlessly wandering beyond the transparent shop front. With immense fatigue, he let out a yawn, before two hazy silhouettes suddenly staggered within his field of vision. The boy stood up a little straighter and fixed his wrinkled vest. A smile, one that was a little nervous and a little unnatural, found its way to his tight lips. 

The truth was, this was Baekhyun’s third night shift that week. It wasn’t easy living by himself in a foreign city, especially when Byun Baekhyun arrived in Seoul only at the tender age of eighteen. Because aside from its unforgiving glares and endless, harsh footsteps, the city also managed to rob every cent that his humble farming family would send him at the start of each month.

And, always a little lacking in his words, it was one of many things that Baekhyun decided to keep to himself.

With an aggressive swing of the glass door, the two silhouettes leapt away from the shadowed alley as they stumbled inside. It was a second later when Baekhyun’s nose couldn’t help but scrunch up for a brief second at the gushing stench of booze and tobacco smoke. Was this how the world of adults smelt like? He wondered beneath a nonchalant facade. Baekhyun watched in silence as the taller of the two clumsily carried the other male to the refrigerated drinks section. Yet before the boy could look away with a long suppressed yawn, a violent clash of plastic against the tiled floor made him flinch in utter fright.

The words of “are you alright?” never managed to depart from Baekhyun’s lips as he froze, then slowly blinked with shock.

Because it was also at that same moment across the convenience store, the shorter man suddenly swung both his arms around the other’s neck and clashed their lips together in a forceful kiss. Out of embarrassment, Baekhyun immediately looked away and pretended like he was busy fidgeting with the confectionaries. His heart merely pounded faster when the taller man eventually dragged the other to the counter, who then reached through every pocket of his grey suit, like nothing had occurred at all.

When silver coins messily collided against the surface of the counter, a deep yet gentle voice muttered with surprising composure, “Keep the change.”

Yet, before Baekhyun could fully comprehend his words, the two men had already disappeared through the front door. The boy gave a small nod at no one in particular as he picked up the coins one by one.

Strangely, they felt immensely warm atop of his heatless palm.

~~~

“Hey Baekhyun.” Jongin greeted him with a kind smile.

The said boy awkwardly sat himself down at his usual seat beside the other, before he replied back with a small silent nod. 

It was always a pleasure to have art as the very first lesson of the day, Baekhyun believed, and there were two precise reasons that accompanied such delight. The first of which was more ordinary, because drawing had always been Baekhyun’s passion. Yet the second explanation was rather akin to the sort of secret that Baekhyun would never admit to anyone else, since it took shape in the form of a particular person, whose name went by Kim Jongin. 

A flush of pink bloomed over Baekhyun’s cheeks as he suddenly felt the other wordlessly lean towards him, only to push open the window on his left. Feeling nothing but foolish, the boy looked down at his desk, despite the speed of his thudding heart that merely grew faster and faster. He anxiously prayed for the other to remain oblivious about his embarrassment. 

Just as Baekhyun placed his sketchbook above the glossy surface of his desk, the art teacher slowly entered the room with a delicate hand that supported her pregnant belly. Softly, she turned her head towards the door with crescent-shaped eyes and gently curved lips. Followed by her dainty footsteps repeated the sound of leather shoes colliding against the classroom floor, as another figure stepped through the door.

His elvish ears stood out behind his neatly combed hair, as his warm grin revealed a playful dimple that exuded a different aura from his clear, confident eyes. He also wore the same grey suit from that night, except this time, there was no stench of booze and tobacco smoke, nor was there a shorter man who clung onto his neck.

It was as if Byun Baekhyun’s world paused for a moment.

Every speck of dust that glimmered beneath the golden sunlight seemed to have disappeared one by one, as the soft cotton of the fluttering curtain brushed against his unmoving elbow. With wide unblinking eyes, Baekhyun found himself unable to look away.

The art teacher soon silenced the room with a nod of her head as she began to speak. “As most of you are aware, my maternity leave will begin this week. I’m deeply sorry that I won’t be accompanying you all to your graduation. However, Mr Park will be taking my place from today onwards. This is his first time being a full-time teacher, so please be kind to one another.”

Baekhyun’s pale lips gradually fell open as the same deep yet gentle voice from a few nights ago landed at his ears.

“Hello everyone. My name is Park Chanyeol and just as Ms Lee said, please let us look after one another from today onwards.” At that, he lowered his torso to a polite bow, one that wasn’t too long or too short.

The new art teacher rose up again at the same moment when Baekhyun decided to turn away. Yet he was a second too late, when their eyes already fatefully met across the classroom amidst tilted heads and hushed whispers. Baekhyun didn’t know who was the first to break off the contact when he found his eyes glued over the top of his desk, his breaths unexplainably shaky. He then heard the other’s awkward coughs from the front of the class.

It seemed he wasn’t the only person bothered by what occurred a few nights ago. And for reasons that remained unexplained, the boy didn’t dare to look up for the remainder of the lesson. 

~~~

The last school bell had never arrived any slower, Byun Baekhyun thought, who hastily packed his bag with tightly pressed lips. For the first time since his arrival at this school, the boy was the first person to dash outside the school building before he took a brief pause beneath the grey sky. An expression that was close enough to smile soon vanished beneath disappointment, as Baekhyun took slow steps away from the falling rain. He didn’t have an umbrella.

The rain merely grew heavier as the faceless crowd pushed past Baekhyun one by one. Joyful giggles, sighs of relief and playful banters chimed by his ears like the songs of a fairy tale in a world void of magic.Yet, each crystal raindrop that landed with an icy splatter only reminded Baekhyun that even after a year, he was still an outcast at school. It was forever moments like these that drew a dash of red at the corner of his downcast eyes, for a boy who never had the strongest heart. Carefully, he shifted towards a tiny corner. 

“Sorry.” Baekhyun muttered each chance he accidentally bumped into someone.

Yet even when the exit became completely empty, with only Baekhyun who remained behind with numb fingers and lightless eyes, the rain didn’t stop. The boy sighed. He was hoping to buy some discounted dishes from the supermarket. But at this rate, it would be considered lucky if he could get home before the sky darkened.

And then he arrived, ever so quietly amidst the falling rain, with the clack of his dark heels that gently collided against the cold concrete. A black umbrella was extended towards Baekhyun.

“You can return it to me tomorrow.” 

The boy flinched with fright and soon turned to his left with an anxious heart. He saw Mr Park who carried the warmest smile.

The umbrella was nudged further towards him, as if its owner had zero intention to take it back. So ever so hesitantly, with trembling fingers that seemed to have begun acting on their own, Byun Baekhyun reached forward. “T-thank you.” He clumsily bowed. 

The new art teacher’s steady voice once again landed at Baekhyun’s ears just as his fingers gripped around the black nylon material. “Would you mind if I occupy a tiny bit more of your time?”

It seemed that the weather wasn’t the only thing that felt immensely dreadful to Baekhyun, as his nervous heart clenched ever so tightly. With a nod, the boy immediately stared down at his own shoes. One droplet slid down from its worn surface, followed by a second, and then a third. It wasn’t until a few seconds later when Baekhyun caught up with the bazaar scenario in front of him as he finally gazed back up with wide, uncertain orbs.

Because there, in front of him, was someone much older and respectable, the same person who paused at a bow that firmly remained at ninety degrees, with the crown of his raven hair that reflected a halo of light. 

“I’m terribly sorry for having you witness such an indecent sight that night, but please refrain from telling anyone of what you saw. This is my very first job... so please! I beg you!” It was at that moment when the violent rain suddenly ceased to a quiet finish, as a ray of afternoon sun shone across the campus.

Baekhyun didn’t quite process everything Mr Park just said, yet he muttered a small “okay” nonetheless. Maybe there was something about the early spring air that made the world feel like it was spinning, the boy tried to convince himself. When the new art teacher rose back up, a gentle wind glided through the school gate and danced over his dark locks

Beneath the gentle sunlight, Baekhyun couldn’t help but think to himself - what a beautiful sight. A little flustered, he quickly brushed away the thought. 

There was a pause before Mr Park softly spoke up again. His voice remained a little hesitant.

“Thank you, Baekhyun. And get home safely.” The art teacher smiled one last time at the said boy, before the clack of his heels gradually travelled further and further, until it finally disappeared from where Baekhyun stood. 

He remembered his name. It was the only thought that occurred to Byun Baekhyun as he clenched the black umbrella in his hand, not realising that the rain had long ended.

~~~

Back in his hometown, it would have never crossed his mind that Baekhyun would one day come to detest the sound of the lunch bell. With his blue lunch box in one hand and his pencil case and sketchbook in the other, the boy walked through the empty hallway in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make friends, yet just the thought of his awkward intrusion to a group of silent strangers already felt intensely suffocating, like the worst part of a long nightmare.

Since his arrival in Seoul, Byun Baekhyun had been painstakingly afraid, more than ever.

It was hard to explain the sort of feeling when one knew that everything was probably for the best, yet they just couldn’t help but gaze back at everything that was left behind. Because that was how Baekhyun felt each time he rang back home, and his grandma would immediately answer despite that their home phone was on the second storey. About twelve months ago was when Byun Baekhyun carefully packed three of his most prized possessions from his country home, as he advanced towards Seoul in the first journey that only contained himself. There was a family photograph neatly framed by wooden sides, the only mobile phone in the entire household that had sat in Baekhyun’s drawer since his seventeenth birthday, and a new sketchbook that was gifted by his grandma on his departure. For the eighteen years that Baekhyun had lived with his family in their two-storey cottage on the edge of the town, he also grew accustomed to harmless smiles and tender hearts. But it seemed, it was a much different story in Seoul. 

As Baekhyun sat down at his usual seat inside the empty art room, his eyes travelled around its decorated walls. There was always something about this classroom that felt unexplainably pleasant, like the sun on a winter afternoon, or the faint smell of citrus that lingered on his grandma’s clothes.

When Baekhyun’s eyes landed at the door, its wooden surface suddenly shifted. One leather shoe stepped inside, followed by another. Mr Park met Baekhyun’s gaze with a gentle tilt of his head. “Oh, hey there.” He greeted. 

The boy wasn’t sure if he should reply.

“Mind if I have my lunch here?” The older male continued as he lifted up a plastic-covered sandwich. “The staff room isn’t all that friendly to newcomers. But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

With shaky fingers, Baekhyun hurriedly placed back the lid of his lunchbox and stood up from his chair.

“No no! I didn’t mean to kick you out or anything like that!” Mr Park stepped closer as he frantically shook his head. “Please. You don’t need to leave. Just pretend like I’m not even here.” And with that, his startled expression transformed to a smile, ever so charmingly, ever so warmly, the kind with crescent-shaped eyes occupied by a thousand tiny sparks. 

Byun Baekhyun knew that he was never good at keeping eye contact with another person. Let it be the stranger on the bus or relatives he only saw once a year. There seemed to be something about the fleeting meeting between two pairs of eyes that always made him unexplainably recoil, like a moth that accidentally fluttered too close to a blazing flame.

Baekhyun instantly looked away.

Yet, as if there was another voice hidden deep within his heart, the boy suddenly regretted for not staring a little longer.

Baekhyun’s eyes travelled about the empty spaces on the classroom floor before they landed at Mr Park’s black leather shoes. It was then when a realisation occurred to him as Baekhyun abruptly stood up from his seat again and dashed out the room, regardless of the lonely lunchbox atop of his desk.

It took no longer than a minute for the boy to return with shaky breaths. “T-thank you, Mr Park.” Baekhyun muttered, the black umbrella in his hands extended towards the said teacher. With all his courage, he mustered a tiny awkward smile.

Out of the blue, Baekhyun suddenly noticed that it was exceptionally warm for a day in spring. And just as a whisk of soft breeze entered through the open window beside his desk and brushed over a tender spot on his pale neck, his eyes decided to linger on Mr Park a little further.

A gentle blush rose over his cheeks, ever so slowly. 

The art teacher was much taller than him, maybe by a head or so, enough to make Baekhyun lift up his head with a little effort. Yet the gap between their heights didn’t stop his eyes from dancing over a tall chiseled nose bridge that drew delicate lines to plump pink lips, followed by another prominent line that curved about the angle of the other’s jaw. Then there were Mr Park’s eyes, those shiny dark orbs adorned by fluttering lashes beautifully shaped in their pointy wings, just like his neat yet strong eyebrows that drew a beautiful finish to every other feature.

Perhaps it was the magic of being an artist that always made Baekhyun subconsciously lean closer to all things mesmerising, including the man in front of him. Without his realisation, his hand began to reach for his pencil case, because the boy merely wished to trace down every beautiful stroke that framed the art teacher’s profile. So much that a tiny gasp almost departed from his gaping lips.

If Mr Park’s eyes were previously occupied by the warmth of playful gleams, they were now painted by nothing but immense confusion. Baekhyun hurriedly withdrew from his trance as he sheepishly stuffed the umbrella into the older male’s much larger hands. With exceptional embarrassment, he walked back to his seat.

No more exchange of words occurred between them that day, or the day after. But Baekhyun could already feel it, the air between them that began to change. 

~~~

“Don’t you think the weather is lovely today?”

As he instantly gazed up from his lunchbox, Baekhyun unplugged his earphones with uncertainty. “I beg your pardon?” He wasn’t sure if Mr Park was talking to him. But at the same time, there was also no one else in the room for the other man to speak with.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to visit the school garden right now? I heard there are roses growing in the green house.” The art teacher grinned as he leaned back in his chair and looked out the open window. “Do you know how to get there from here?”

Perhaps it had become something akin to a daily routine for Byun Baekhyun to encounter Mr Park within the art room each lunchtime. There were times when the atmosphere would remain completely silent, with the older male always sitting two seats away from Baekhyun as he wordlessly stared out the window. And then there were the other times, ones like this, when Mr Park would attempt to initiate small talks despite the other’s short and dull replies.

He was so much different to all the other teachers at school, the boy would think to himself. 

“Sorry.” Softly, Baekhyun replied. “I don’t.” He couldn’t help but wonder if that was an indirect invitation from the art teacher to head outside the classroom together, despite how foolish the thought appeared. 

Mr Park gently nodded.

“Then, is it alright for me to assume that you are fairly new to the school as well?”

Despite the low pitch of his voice, the older male forever seemed to carry a special kind of cheeriness when he spoke, to the extent that Baekhyun couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing this on purpose. The boy responded after a small moment, because he wasn’t sure if one year was considered long or short.

“...Yeah.”

From his seat, Baekhyun heard the faint tappings of Mr Park’s foot against the tiled floor.

“Hey Baekhyun, do you like spring?”

The said boy met the other’s shiny eyes with confusion. “Sorry?”

“I think spring might be my favourite season.” Mr Park suddenly stood up and rested his arms against the wooden frame of the window. Strands of his hair began to pick up tiny flutters, while the white of his shirt became camouflaged behind the thin curtain. “Because summer always feels too sticky and hot, whereas winter always feels too dark and dreadful when you wake up in the gloomy mornings. Autumn on the other hand isn’t quite extreme like summer or winter, yet something about the falling leaves just reminds me of a sad farewell. So I suppose my favourite season is spring, because there isn’t much I can pinpoint to dislike about it.” He then turned towards Baekhyun. “Humans really tend to think too much about random things, don’t we?”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure how to reply, so he nodded with uncertainty. There was something pleasant about hearing Mr Park speak, despite his spontaneous chatters that would more often than not leave Baekhyun silent and puzzled.

This felt… nice, out of nowhere in particular, the boy quietly decided.

“It would be wonderful if you smiled a little more, Baekhyun.”

His words were always spontaneous, enough to make the boy exceptionally flustered as he looked down to hide away nervous eyes and red cheeks.

Indeed, Mr Park was a strange man.

~~~

As Baekhyun stared at his sketchbook beneath the soft radiance of his second-hand desk lamp, he felt unexplainably frustrated. It was a rather impulsive act when the boy decided it was a good time to draw, despite the shortest hand of the clock that had long moved away from the number ‘12’. Yet as he sat still with pencil in hand, Baekhyun was at a loss of where to begin.

Since the first lunchtime they encountered one another within the art room, there had always existed a silent desire for Baekhyun to capture what he saw in paper and graphite. Because oddly enough, when the boy closed his eyes, he could somewhat picture the other’s charming profile as if he was right in front of him.

With a small groan, Baekhyun buried his heated face in his palms. He felt like a pervert.

The boy had hardly drawn anyone else beside his family. So when his first stroke that night glided across the smooth surface of the blank paper, there suddenly existed a tingly sensation that rested over pale fingertips. Baekhyun paused. Then with a new heave of breath, a flicker of determination flashed across his eyes. He decided to continue, and didn’t stop again.

To Baekhyun, the image of Mr Park gazing out the window as sprinkles of sunlight dotted over the classroom was remarkably lovely, like a captivating scene of a movie set in spring. It was an image that always made Baekhyun’s eyes linger a little longer than the last time he gazed up from his own desk, an act that became almost addictive.

Within his heart rested a gentle pool of water, reflective enough to conceal the treasure box that stood at its pit. Yet curious as he was, Baekhyun didn’t seek the answer inside. He didn’t wish for his limbs to be tangled within the endless threads of excuses and doubt, so the boy instead drifted his attention to something else. Something exclusive. Something guarded.

Something like a monotone sketch that rested between hushed pages.

~~~

It was bad, really bad.

As Byun Baekhyun carefully glanced at Mr Park through the shadow of his dark locks, the only thought that occupied his mind was how much he wished to rip out his last drawing. It was wrong. Everything was wrong. How could Baekhyun even mess up so much like this?

He hastily flipped to a new page. 

Jongin seemed to have noticed the rashness of Baekhyun’s gesture as the boy turned over with eyes of concern. But for the first time, the other didn’t notice.

Never before had Baekhyun felt this frustrated at an artwork, so much that he felt angry at himself for deciding to draw in the very first place. Because each chance the boy stared at the front of the classroom, where Mr Park turned towards the sun as he spoke of Goya and Picasso and Van Gogh, Baekhyun believed he appeared far more enchanting than any drawings in the world. 

Baekhyun decided that he needed to try again.

Never mind the lesson, he began the outlines of another sketch. No longer was the boy conscious of Jongin’s occasional, confused gaze, as he solely fixed his attention on that particular person at the front of the class.

Again, and again, and again.

~~~

As the pleasant spring eventually flipped to the golden bookmark of summer, so did Baekhyun’s sketchbook that began to witness an absence of empty pages. As if a screw went loose in a corner of his head, Byun Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from drawing the same man, who seemed to be stealing more and more beats of his heart each chance the boy took a sneaky glance.

It had become almost compulsive, like a desire that couldn’t be fulfilled.

Because no matter how many drawings Baekhyun had made, no matter how delicate his lines were, or how precisely he tried to trace every speck, slope and curves, not a single sketch seemed to look right. 

Byun Baekhyun felt like a madman in the making.

~~~

It was another Tuesday morning when Byun Baekhyun found himself fixated over his newest drawing, so much that he almost missed Jongin’s dejected entrance. The realisation that their usual greetings never occurred made him slowly withdraw his eyes from his sketchbook. Instead, Baekhyun turned towards Jongin, whose head hastily sunk into his folded arms as if attempting to hide away his face. His shoulders lightly trembled.

As if a single flutter of butterfly wings suddenly pulled him away from the realm of a very deep dream, Baekhyun stopped drawing once and for all. The pale fingers that were gripped onto his short graphite pencil a moment ago now extended towards Jongin’s back, ever so hesitantly.

Baekhyun’s hand stopped mid-air when the other suddenly whispered a faint string of broken words,

“She broke up with me this morning. Not even with a goodbye. Maybe she really didn’t like me that much after all.”

Baekhyun’s heart agonisingly squeezed as his lips wordlessly opened, and shakily closed a second later. The truth was, he didn’t know what to say. To hear so much pain from Jongin’s raspy voice was tremendously painful, but a part of Baekhyun that was more selfish than kind also wished he didn’t hear anything at all.

Because it felt unexplainably unpleasant, something about the presence of ‘she’ in Jongin’s few sentences.

Slowly, Baekhyun withdrew his hand that had begun to lose its warmth for hanging in mid-air far too long. He sat still in his seat, apologetic and silent as he stared at the back of Jongin’s head with sorrowful eyes. Inside Baekhyun’s head were whispers of ‘sorry’ that gradually vanished beneath the frightening shadow of hesitation. He wasn’t sure if Jongin wanted his words of comfort, or even to hear his voice at all.

Kim Jongin was always kind, exceptionally so.

Like the silver gleams of the gentle moon, he was ever so mesmerising. And also distant, ungraspable almost. It was Byun Baekhyun’s fault for holding the impossible dream that maybe he wasn’t just a lonely classmate to Jongin after all. Maybe their seating arrangement wasn’t just the outcome of mere empathy. Maybe all the tingly sensations within his heart that lasted for almost a year weren’t just all for nothing.

Baekhyun felt like a fool.

From the moment the lesson began to the moment it finished, his eyes were unfocused, just as his thoughts wandered to a place far beyond the silver school gates. Each second and minute simply vanished within a void of melancholy inside Baekhyun’s heart, its animated beats that seized to nothing but stillness. It didn’t occur to him that the class was already over until Mr Park’s footsteps landed beside him with a careful thud. Eyes alarmingly unguarded, Baekhyun gazed up.

“The bell rang a moment ago.” Softly uttered the art teacher.

Frantically, with a tiny desperation, Baekhyun’s hands found their way to the zipper of his backpack. He sloppily shoved everything placed on his desk inside and hurriedly left his seat. Feeling nothing but utter embarrassment, a gush of warmth wrapped over his pale cheeks.

Mr Park spoke again, “Hey Baekhyun, is everything okay? Both you and Jongin looked quite unwell during the lesson today. If you don’t mind, you can talk to me about it.”

The said boy paused for a second. With his movements that gradually slowed down, Baekhyun gazed at Mr Park with eyes that turned inexplicably glossy.

He hastily shook his head.

Before he knew, Byun Baekhyun found himself dashing out the door with his unzipped backpack closely squeezed to his chest as if his life depended on it. And despite the countless, odd gazes he received through the maze of hallways, only one thought seemed to occupy Baekhyun’s head.

God, what on earth was wrong with him?

~~~

It also turned out, the conversation that Baekhyun wordlessly snipped to a finish was unforgotten by Mr Park, whose voice was deep and clear when he uttered, “This is purely me asking as a lunch buddy, and you don’t have to answer me at all. But, did something happen between you and Jongin?”

Baekhyun’s foot had merely stepped inside the art room, yet he knew it was too late to run away again. Like an idiot, he thoughtlessly returned to the art room merely because it had become something of a habit during each lunchtime. The boy sheepishly avoided the other’s gaze.

“N-no.” Yet he still couldn’t help to stutter. “It’s nothing. I didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry for zoning out in your class today Mr Park. It won’t happen again.” Eyes glued to the floor, Baekhyun hesitantly stepped inside.

“Hey Baekhyun, would you mind if we exchange a tiny secret?”

A little taken aback, the said boy looked up. “What-”

“I’ll go first since I’m the one who suggested it.”

“Wait-”

“I like men.”

Mr Park stared back at Baekhyun from his place beside the window, the sunlight seeping inside behind him. The art teacher’s smile was warm, far warmer than the summer breezes as he asked with vast gentleness,

“Do you like men as well?”

To Byun Baekhyun, everything had paused during that particular moment. His head was a buzzing mess while his heart merely skipped ever so rapidly, to the point that it almost felt suffocating to breathe.

Why were they talking about this? How could Mr Park tell? Was he that obvious? What if Jongin knew as well? Would he feel uncomfortable to sit next to Baekhyun?

Yet despite the thunder storm of questions that the art teacher managed to unplug inside his head, Byun Baekhyun still found himself giving back a small nod, as if Mr Park was some sort of magician who casted on him an unspoken spell. They were almost complete strangers to one another, so why did Baekhyun feel like this was alright? The fact that something he had kept to himself at the very bottom of his heart was at once exposed to another person, who also happened to be his teacher. Why was it that he didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed? The kind of emotions that Baekhyun always imagined to coexist with the truth. Was it really simply because Mr Park was the same?

Byun Baekhyun didn’t know. Perhaps since the art teacher’s arrival at this school, countless answers that once resided in a corner of his thoughts already began to vanish, like cherry blossoms in late spring. Questions like why he felt so desperate to draw the older male, or why his sadness over Jongin already disappeared by the end of the second period had long become absent of reasons. Something had changed. He had changed.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Mr Park suddenly uttered as he quickly stepped outside the room, leaving Baekhyun behind with unmoving feet and gaping lips. Never before had the boy realised that his breaths were so obnoxiously loud, enough to fill up every silence inch of the room.

When the older male returned with gleaming eyes, Baekhyun witnessed within them a world of warmth that shone beneath an orange glaze. Just about everything associating Mr Park was gentle and warr. That was Byun Baekhyun’s only thought.

“To seal off our exchange of secrets.” With a voice full of joy, the art teacher lifted up two cartons of strawberry milk and offered one to Baekhyun, who slowly received it with much uncertainty. “Cheers.” Mr Park grinned, as the glossy surface of the two cartons met in a chaste kiss.

Baekhyun’s hands were shaky as they wrapped around the drink.

He wondered if it was alright to suddenly feel this way, to have his heart beat this crazily fast, as if the whole world was spinning in nothing but flying colours.

~~~

Somehow, Mr Park felt like a fairy tale that would vanish into thin air if Byun Baekhyun were to give so little as a small hesitant touch. That was what he thought as the boy rested awake in the middle of the night.

Their conversations had always been nothing but odd. They knew each other’s secrets as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. They were a teacher and a student, yet the correlation never quite stuck with Baekhyun because everything from their encounter at the convenience store to this moment felt far more than that.

Then again, he was probably thinking too much, like always. 

So for the hundredth time that night, Baekhyun shifted in his bed. 

His eyes remained wide open. 

He couldn’t sleep.

\------

At the age of twenty-four, sleepless hours during the quietest time in Seoul was nothing foreign to Park Chanyeol.

He shifted a little in bed and turned towards the window. Just like what he thought, outside was a field of black, dotted by the occasional glimpses of yellow and white lights. His father always told him to cherish this moment, because it was impossible during the day for a city that buzzed with millions of voices to hush in an uniform silence.

While he used to naively believe every word his father uttered when he was younger, now they merely floated about the very back of his mind.

Adolescence was a fascinating time. Back then, the much more rebellious and hot-headed Park Chanyeol would have never guessed that he would one day become a tamed high school teacher, especially the fact that it was something he chose in a spur of the moment. Adolescence was also the time when Park Chanyeol began to realise many things after the passing of his soft-spoken mother, who always showered him with the kind of love that was gentle and warm. Perhaps the reason why his parents married one another was because they filled in each other’s gaps, Chanyeol believed, when he couldn’t help to notice the absence of affection in his father.

The head of the Park family was a reputable lawyer who always seemed more devoted to his clients than his son, who held a solemn expression even at family gatherings, and who forever gave off an impression that he never quite liked anyone else. It was a topic never openly discussed between the two of them, yet Chanyeol was well aware that his father wished for him to also become a lawyer. And stubborn as he was, he chose to defy the unspoken plan. Chanyeol didn’t want to be stuck in a world of black and white, occupied by heavy stacks of printed pages and empty promises. He also didn’t want to sell off his morals, despite his lack of understanding for the word back then, for the sake of reputation, honour and his name on the highway billboard.

He didn’t want to become like his father, who more often than not played the role of the villain in his own story.

So even despite his lack of dreams for the future ahead, Chanyeol did everything he could to escape from the world that his father seemingly planned out for him. With exceeding results he entered a university in Seoul and enrolled in Fine Art theory and education. He would call his father once a month, with conversations that never lasted beyond a few minutes. He would never speak of university, or the fact that he changed his course at the very last minute with a bare minimum of knowing what he was getting himself into. Or that he met his first boyfriend in the second semester of his first year.

That was how Park Chanyeol managed until this day. Unlike every other adult who always frowned, he would force himself to smile. Rather than choosing to keep silent like everyone else, he would lift up his hand and speak of words that others didn’t utter. People have always found Chanyeol a little odd, yet at the same time no one had ever truly disliked him. That was what mattered, the man would think to himself, despite the voice in the deepest part of his heart that forever reminded Chanyeol - he was merely running away.

From what?

Stubbornly, Park Chanyeol would never once acknowledge.

It was always nights like these when Chanyeol found himself thinking about the past with heavy fatigue. Just as the lights outside disappeared one by one, his usual smile had also faded into an expression of blank exhaustion. Yet Chanyeol’s eyes refused to remain closed, just as his heart wouldn’t rest at ease.

He might have forgotten to call his father today.

He also couldn’t sleep.

~~~

It wasn’t a particular surprise to Chanyeol that he would be late to work the next morning. As he hurriedly exited the metro station and dashed down the street with half a piece of bread that loosely hung at the corner of his mouth, Chanyeol felt strangely lively. It seemed the pedestrian paths were already void of people, as white petals of summer blossoms danced in mid air until they touched the sunlight-dotted ground. With dark locks brushed away from his sweat-stained forehead, Chanyeol passed by a pair of fluttering butterflies, before he stopped at the crossing.

A familiar figure entered his sight, whose pale hands tightly clenched onto the straps of his backpack. As always, Baekhyun seemed to be occupied in his own thoughts.

There was something fascinating about Byun Baekhyun that drew his eyes since Park Chanyeol arrived at this school. It wasn’t just because the boy unluckily witnessed Joonmyeon’s awful habit of kissing people when he was drunk, or that his eyes seemed to be forever escaping from Chanyeol’s own. The art teacher couldn’t quite put an exact word to it, but the way that small figure would remain almost invisibly silent at the very back of the class strangely evoked something vulnerable within Chanyeol, something that was also tender and warm.

To observe the other from afar had become something like a habit to the older male. Every flinch and stumble, every smile and frown; it was oddly fascinating to watch Baekhyun, who seemed so much more different to himself. Perhaps it was something he learnt being the son of a lawyer, but Chanyeol took great pride in his ability to pick up small details. So when he noticed that there was a great chance Baekhyun might also be interested in the same sex and possibly troubled by this, it took no more than a heartbeat for him to step forward. After all, hesitation had never been something that Chanyeol was familiar with, neither was the term ‘mind your own business’. 

Call it empathy, or anything along the lines of it. Before Chanyeol could realise, he had already told Baekhyun that he liked men as well. It came out with so much ease for a reason that the art teacher couldn’t quite pinpoint, because there seemed to exist a small voice inside his head that constantly reminded Chanyeol to look after Byun Baekhyun. To pay attention to the boy. To protect him if he could.

Maybe it all started since that one lunchtime, which still remained vivid to Chanyeol’s memory.

That day, the wind was stronger than usual. It hadn’t been long since he arrived at the school, and as Baekhyun departed for the bathroom, Chanyeol decided it was a good time to close the last window of the art classroom. One step followed by another, Chanyeol’s presence beside Baekhyun’s desk was accompanied by a fated breeze, one that made the pages of the boy’s sketchbook flutter beneath the white curtain.

The art teacher didn’t mean to look on purpose, yet the moment his eyes landed on the delicate white page, he could no longer stare away.

The drawing of an elderly lady smiling beneath a peach tree was nothing but beautiful. It felt magical, because the more Chanyeol looked closer, the more at awe he was. At that moment, Chanyeol was convinced that Byun Baekhyun was a genius of his own kind. So even when he caught the boy drawing in class, despite his instructions otherwise, the art teacher merely turned a blind eye. Maybe he was creating something incredible again, Chanyeol would think to himself as his eyes landed on the rest of the class. He just wished he could see it.

Oddly enough, despite the light at the crossing that already turned green, Baekhyun didn’t move from his spot. His eyes remained on the concrete ground, which made Chanyeol wonder if something was troubling him again. Yet before he managed to call out the boy’s name, Baekhyun abruptly took a step forward, followed by another. 

With wide eyes and clenched fists, Park Chanyeol instantly dashed forward in alarm at his fastest speed.

“BYUN BAEKHYUN STOP!!”

Luckily his right hand was able to reach the said boy’s backpack as Chanyeol tugged him backwards with all his might. A sigh of relief finally escaped his lips when Baekhyun’s forehead collided against his chest as they both took a few small stumbles.

At the spot where Baekhyun’s feet were planted a second ago, a car sped past, followed by a dozen more.

“What on earth were you thinking to cross the road when the signal is red!?” Chanyeol couldn’t help to scold the boy whose head remained looking down. But when Baekhyun finally peered up at him, the art teacher paused himself from speaking any further.

It was no mistake that the boy’s watery eyes held shock and panic as the aftermath of everything that just occurred, yet Park Chanyeol also witnessed a range of other emotions that bloomed within those dark shiny orbs. He suddenly began to feel a little fidgety and nervous at the sight of Baekhyun’s red-dusted cheeks, and pale lips that had fallen slightly open. 

With a shake of his head, the art teacher gave a gentle pat on the top of the boy's head.

“So you are late as well huh.” Chanyeol spoke nonchalantly with his usual grin as he turned towards the school gate.

Baekhyun didn’t reply.

It was finally when the light of the crossing turned green, the boy stepped in front of him and gave a deep, silent bow. He then leapt towards the school without ever looking back.

This time, it was Chanyeol who remained frozen at his spot. He could only blink thoughtlessly at the disappearing dot that was once the white uniform of Byun Baekhyun’s back, as the boy vanished further and further amidst the blinding sunlight.

“What... just happened?” Park Chanyeol whispered to himself. 

~~~

The art teacher always found the imagination as something exceptionally fascinating, like a mirage of endless possibilities occupied by nothing but vivid sparks. Yet, the moment when he began to notice something strangely different about the tension between him and Baekhyun, Chanyeol could only put his own imagination to blame. Because, like a forbidden daydream, there seemed to be more occasions when the boy would become oddly flustered with restless eyes and rosy cheeks. It was a sight hard to ignore, especially when Chanyeol could feel those timid eyes linger on him longer and longer each chance they met inside the art room during lunch.

Never before had the responsibilities of an adult suddenly felt so heavy upon Park Chanyeol’s shoulders.

More often than not, the older male would pretend like he wasn’t fazed at all by the other’s unsettled behaviours. I’m his teacher, and he is my student, Chanyeol repeated to himself each day at school to the point that the sentence had become an addictive mantra. Yet every chance he encountered Baekhyun, that nervous sensation within his chest still managed to disturb every single one of Chanyeol’s thoughts, like the passing of a train amidst a silent field of green.

There were other times, when the thought that maybe he was getting too full of himself crossed Chanyeol’s mind.

He was no longer certain of his own judgements.

Perhaps it had come to a point where Park Chanyeol began to subconsciously avoid Byun Baekhyun, as his eyes would pause from searching for that small figure at the back of the class. The same applied to their decreasing encounters during lunch, with Chanyeol excusing himself to stock up on materials or hold conversations with other students that were always much longer than needed.

It was selfish and unfair to act this way, Chanyeol knew, but it was the simplest method to silence the bothersome voices inside his head. He hoped Baekhyun could forgive him.

But nonetheless, that particular Friday still arrived, along with a late-summer storm and the endless sound of the rain.

The art classroom was quiet as always when Chanyeol entered. As his eyes travelled to the very back corner where Baekhyun peacefully rested, with closed eyes and head placed over the top of his arms, the art teacher couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh. Hurriedly as he could, Chanyeol stepped over to his desk and grabbed the folders he left behind, before the sound of the thunder drew his gaze to the back of the classroom once again. A frown formed over his face while strings of contemplation rose to the very top of his thoughts.

Soon enough, he found himself taking quiet steps towards Baekhyun with a sort of tenderness inside his heart that he couldn’t quite explain. The boy’s dark lashes were delicately curved as they rested softly above pale skin, and Chanyeol could detect almost unnoticeable freckles that doted over the bridge of his nose. It was a lovely sight, something Chanyeol would picture as part of a high school romance novel.

If Baekhyun was the protagonist of the story, then Chanyeol should probably also fulfil his role as the side character.

He looked away.

Carefully, the art teacher closed the window beside Baekhyun. Park Chanyeol was determined to depart from the room in the next moment, yet nonetheless, his eyes still lingered over the boy’s open sketchbook for a second too long. The older male blinked with uncertainty as he leaned down a little closer.

Just like everything else inside the motionless art room, Park Chanyeol’s world also came to a pause. 

The stormy weather outside could no longer be heard, because the only sound that resided in Chanyeol’s ears were the thuds of his frantic heart, tightly clenching at each page the art teacher slowly and quietly flipped past. He really didn’t mean to intrude Baekhyun’s privacy like this but it had come to a point where Chanyeol could no longer stop his fingers from repeating its movement.

When he finally reached the end of the drawings, Chanyeol’s eyes were glassy and hard. And as he stepped away from the classroom, his footsteps were much louder than when he entered. The art teacher tightly clenched his hands, despite the light trembles of his lips.

He didn’t dare to look back.

\------

It had been a fact that Byun Baekhyun was never a great actor. To conceal one’s thoughts and feelings was an art that he forever failed to master, like the times when Baekhyun tried to wordlessly swallow his dad’s burnt omelettes, and the odd few moments when he attempted to act assured within a foreign crowd.

An open book. That was the term used by Baekhyun’s grandma who never once failed to decipher the boy’s smallest acts.

So when Byun Baekhyun had finally arrived at an important realisation, one that transformed along the twinkling stars of summer into the first orange leaves of autumn, he felt immensely uneasy. To think that his feelings for Mr Park had long grown dangerously beyond the boundaries of pure admiration felt incredibly wrong. For god’s sake Byun Baekhyun, he is your teacher! The boy would scream at himself each night when he found himself unable to sleep, as his mind drifted to the lovely image of the art teacher with his beautiful smile.

Baekhyun was also no fool to notice that Mr Park’s presence within his world had become increasingly absent. His feelings would merely be a burden to the older male, the boy knew, yet he still couldn’t help to feel disheartened at the sight of Mr Park’s back in the far distance.

It was fine, the way they were, Baekhyun tried to convince himself. If Mr Park could still smile at him like he always did, that was enough. 

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t. The most selfish part of Byun Baekhyun would repeat the phrase again and again until it had become numb to his dejected heart. Because the truth beneath every single one of Baekhyun’s broken facade, the truth that was impossible to conceal, the truth to the rapid beats of his heart - he yearned for more.

Something more than a kind smile and gentle words.  Something more than a black umbrella and a pat on the head.

Baekhyun yearned for so much that he felt scared, incredibly so. Because time was merely slipping through the gaps of his fingers and soon enough, Mr Park would disappear from his sight for good. He didn’t want for that to happen.

Byun Baekhyun was afraid.

~~~

What he feared arrived much sooner beneath the surface of cold reality.

“As all of you are aware, the CSAT is getting closer and closer. And as third years, the most crucial time of the year has arrived. From today onwards, art, music and PE lessons are replaced by math, Korean literature and English. This is upon the approval of Mr Park, Mr Lee and Ms Kim, who all wish you the best of luck in the next few months.” The math teacher expressionlessly announced at the front of the class.

As the rest of the class submerged beneath chatters of protest and annoyance, Baekhyun found himself staring out the window. That was right, the mock exams were about to come soon, and shortly after, the university entrance exam. It was the reason why he arrived alone in Seoul in the very first place, so he could remain here much longer, something that was always kept close to Baekhyun’s heart.

To fall in love was a privilege that he couldn’t afford. At least, not right now.

Like everything merely leapt back to the time before Mr Park entered his life, each day proceeded like the cogwheels of a rusty machine. Baekhyun had forgotten when was the last time he opened his sketchbook, or the last time he stepped inside the art classroom without having to leave in the very next moment.

Seconds, minutes, hours, they all began to feel the same, as anxiety creeped in ever so close. The light at the end of the tunnel had finally become something visible, yet Baekhyun couldn’t help to feel a little hesitant and concerned.

Was everything going to be okay? Was he going to be okay?

~~~

The first time Byun Baekhyun witnessed cherry blossoms in Seoul was in the first week of his arrival, the second time when he met Mr Park, and the third time during his high school graduation.

Needless to say, the sight of the pink-embellished streets were beautiful as he entered the school entrance for the final time. The weather was exceptionally fine that day, with sprinkles of long-waited sunlight that finally shone above the melancholic school grounds. Yet unlike everyone else whose faces were streaked by crystal-like jewels, Baekhyun didn’t feel like crying. It was odd, because as he travelled further through the empty hallways, his heart was occupied by nothing but giddiness and anticipation.

When the boy finally paused in his steps, it was before the closed door to the art classroom, where he found Jongin standing equally still with a lovely smile. In his hands was a pretty bouquet, just like the ones that everyone else received, all except Baekhyun.

The boy stepped forward, as he exchanged the other’s smile with an awkward one of his own. 

“All the best in the future!” Jongin grinned as he took out two roses from the centre of the bunch. “Sorry, I know I should have prepared something else…”

The other frantically shook his head as he carefully reached for the delicate flowers. “Thank you.” Baekhyun softly uttered. “And I’m sorry too, for not having anything prepared.” Out of habit, he began to look down to the tiled floor.

“Then until we meet again, you better have become the best artist in South Korea!”

Kim Jongin had always been kind, incredibly so. And Byun Baekhyun felt nothing but grateful to have met him, even if the distance between them was enough to fly to the moon and back.

It was after their final goodbyes when Baekhyun suddenly found it a little hard to breathe. He stood with his back against the art room door as the roses in his hands touched against his chest. Inside his stomach were a thousand butterflies that madly fluttered their wings, as if urging Baekhyun to move just a little sooner.

_ He missed him. _

Byun Baekhyun wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he opened that door. Yet nonetheless, his shaky hand still found its place around the silver handle with enough determination to last over a whole lifetime. He was ready.

Upon the familiar creak of the wooden door, Baekhyun nervously opened his eyes. 

If the boy’s thudding heart suddenly fell to an abrupt pause at that very moment, no one else would’ve heard. As he stood before the empty classroom that concealed itself from all glimpses of light with closed curtains, Baekhyun could only bitterly smile to himself. Maybe he’s somewhere else, he thought wishfully, despite having searched through every other corner of the school just a moment ago.

Slowly, Baekhyun walked over to Mr Park’s desk and placed one rose over its glossy surface. A few seconds later, the other rose found its place beside the window, at the farthest table in the shadowed back corner of the class.

Perhaps since the very beginning, the distance between them had already been established.

When Baekhyun was at the door again, he silently gazed back with cold fingers and glassy eyes.

_ Farewell. _

~~~

It turned out, Mr Park wasn’t at school on the day of the graduation.

That was the last thing Baekhyun managed to hear from the others, as he mindlessly stepped further and further away from the school gate. With aimless eyes, he didn’t know where he was headed.

But Baekhyun could faintly remember that it was at the pedestrian crossing when he heard a shout of alarm that sounded somewhat like Jongin, and then the deafen screech of car tires against the hard concrete. Before he could possibly turn back, Baekhyun’s world had already switched to an endless field of black.

He felt himself falling, deeper and deeper. Yet within what, Byun Baekhyun wasn’t so sure.

\-------

It was in spring when they first met. It was also in spring when they missed each other’s goodbyes.

Yet, could one’s first love ever fade away, like white lilac petals amidst the falling snow?

\-------

[ _ Five years later _ ]

Park Chanyeol would only be lying to himself if he were to say that he completely forgot about Byun Baekhyun.

Of many things that he deeply regretted in the past five years, a notable one would be his absence at the boy’s graduation. It never quite occurred to Chanyeol at the time that he never once asked Baekhyun what he wished to do after high school, or his hopes and dreams for the future ahead. It also didn’t quite cross his mind that the final time he saw the boy was on that stormy Friday when everything seemed to have paused perfectly still. The thought always made Chanyeol feel rather apologetic. 

He should have bid a proper farewell, even just for the sake that Baekhyun was one amongst many of his graduating students, despite everything else that had occurred between them.

It wasn’t part of his intention to miss the graduation from five year ago. Park Chanyeol woke up at the same time as usual and moved through his morning routines just like every other day on the calendar. Yet it was seconds before he stepped outside his door, a no-caller ID flashed over the screen of his phone, which vibrated more violently than usual against the dining table. His father collapsed from a sudden cardiac arrest that morning and was taken to the emergency department.

Never before had Chanyeol’s heart pounded so anxiously at the sight of his father’s sleeping profile, who rested with immense peace beneath the white hospital quilt. From the first nineteen years of his life, Chanyeol only remembered the way his father would impatiently pace back and forth within the dimmed space of his office, with a sort of sternness that felt untouchable. So the serene scene of absolute stillness felt rather strange to gaze at.

It wasn’t until the doctor informed him that his father was in a stable condition when Chanyeol finally realised the trembling sensation of his numb legs, as he fell heavily onto the nearest bench with uneven breaths. For a long time, Chanyeol’s face was pressed to the palm of his hands while doctors and nurses sped past him with a new patient every few minutes. 

That day, his mind was a mess. Everything felt like a mess.

It wasn’t until a nurse paused before him and gently uttered that visiting hours were about to finish, when Chanyeol finally stood up again and headed home beneath the starless sky. An email was sent from the principal on the second day that Chanyeol wordlessly moved back to his father’s house. There appeared to be a car accident at the school gate, in which a third year student was hit. Fortunately, the accident was only minor and the student arrived in a stable condition soon after they were hospitalised. No name was given.

The email was long and Park Chanyeol didn’t read all of it. Because at that time, he already had enough to deal with on his own behalf.

To the art teacher, that period of time from five years ago felt immensely dreadful, as if each day merely hung off a fragile thread. Chanyeol felt like he had the entire world to blame for all things that seemed to have headed in all sorts of wrong directions, yet he could never come up with a single proper argument that would shove the responsibilities onto anyone else but himself.

He was hopelessly immature back then, Park Chanyeol thought, as he sat amongst every other teacher at the front of the assembly. Spring seemed to have landed in Seoul once again, just like the new first years who sat alongside them. Chanyeol still hadn’t quite registered that this was his fifth year teaching as the principal slowly delivered his annual welcome speech with the stage light shining above his grey hair. 

Out of immense boredom, the art teacher stared down at his folded hands and laced shoes.

It had been so long since his last relationship, he thought.

What should he have for dinner tonight?

Would Joonmyeon call off their weekly meet-up at the bar again?

Should he call his father after work?

As Chanyeol withdrew his attention from the front of the stage, a familiar figure also began to hesitantly emerge from the shadowed corner. 

“...And now, I would like to send my welcome to a few new members of staff this year. Starting from my left is Mr Byun, who will be joining Mr Park in the art faculty.”

Out of habit, Park Chanyeol instantly gazed up at the call of his name. Yet the moment his eyes landed on a particular person who shone ever so blindingly in the centre of the large stage, the man found himself unable to look away.

After five years, a lot of things about Baekhyun seemed to have changed. Park Chanyeol always remembered him as the boy who timidly hid himself away from everyone else, the boy with rosy cheeks and pale lips, and the boy whose artworks were as mesmerising as every spark of magic. So when the same boy reappeared in front of him as the young man who gave a deep, sincere bow to everyone else inside the school hall, Chanyeol’s heart suddenly began to feel a little strange, like he was buried deep within a realistic dream.

When Baekhyun rose up again, a rigid smile formed over his nervous expression, the same one from five years ago that remained in Chanyeol’s memory. Yet, as the older male’s gaze slowly travelled to the other’s dark eyes that sparked beneath the golden stage light, his raven hair brushed away from his pale forehead, his back that stood a lot straighter, and his grey suit that replaced his oversized uniform, Chanyeol couldn’t help but question-

Was this really Byun Baekhyun?

Soon enough, amidst the disappearance of each rhythmic applaud, their eyes finally met across the school hall. But unlike the Baekhyun from five years ago, the person on stage didn’t flinch or waver. Rather, his smile became less rigid as his eyes shifted into small crescents towards Chanyeol’s direction. If anyone else were to say that Park Chanyeol looked like a dumbstruck fool during that particular moment, he would only agree in absolute defeat.

It was the first time Chanyeol witnessed such a captivating expression over Baekhyun’s face, an act that somehow reminded him of the first time he went cherry blossom-watching with his mother beneath the gentle blue sky.

Park Chanyeol couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a very lucky coincidence. Because, just as a new season arrived in Seoul, the art teacher saw his world gleam once again beneath the sparks of a million flying colours.

~~~

To catch a glimpse of the golden sunset was something that always occupied Chanyeol’s trip from the school to the metro station, as he shook off the responsibilities of ‘Mr Park’ and simply returned to Park Chanyeol.

As he stepped away from the deserted school gate that day, the first drop of rain made Chanyeol frown at the grey cloudy sky above. So no sunset today, he thought with disappointment.

The rain grew heavier into thin, translucent sheets as Chanyeol strode forward with his handbag placed over the top of his head. Cherry blossoms were always undeniably delightful beneath the glowing sun, but when endless wet petals were piling up on Chanyeol’s wet shoulders, he wasn’t sure if he could still appreciate their beauty. As the art teacher rapidly marched towards the tiny metro station sign that shone faintly in the distance, he began to pick up another set of footsteps that gradually caught up to his own.

It was strange, because Park Chanyeol knew the rain didn’t stop. Yet as he hurriedly stepped further and further, the raindrops that once landed on the tip of his nose also began to vanish. Chanyeol spun around with uncertainty, only to witness the struggling expression of Baekhyun who stood on his tiptoes to reach his umbrella over the older male’s head.

“No time no see Mr Park.” The boy from Chanyeol’s memory smiled warmly, whose other hand tightly clutched his handbag to his chest.

Before Chanyeol could offer a reply, Baekhyun abruptly stumbled forward with unsteady feet and eyes of shock. It was lucky that the older male managed to catch him within the span of a single second, as the metal beam of Baekhyun’s umbrella also clashed against his forehead. A hiss of pain escaped from Chanyeol’s lips.

“Oh my gosh! I am so, so terribly sorry!” Baekhyun frantically apologised with incredible concern.

It definitely wasn’t Chanyeol’s intention to flinch so harshly when a gentle hand reached towards the spot of red on his forehead. Rather, he began to feel nervously conscious of the other’s presence as the sketchbook from five years ago suddenly rose from his memory. It was enough to make Park Chanyeol fail to realise that his eyes had lingered on Baekhyun a little too long.

Up close, the older male noticed a tiny mole on the corner of his lips, and the softness of his cheeks that seemed to have remained despite his entrance into adulthood. The thought made the corners of Chanyeol's lips curve up by the slightest. 

“Mr Park?”

The said man shook away his thoughts when he realised the position of his hands, which were still firmly wrapped around Baekhyun’s arms.

“U-uh it’s good to see you after so long Baekhyun.” He uttered with an anxious smile and detached his grip. “How have you been?”

The other replied with a soft grin, “I’ve been well. It is a little hard to get used to my new role after coming back here five years later. But aside from that, it is great to see you again as well. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well too.”

When Chanyeol began to wonder if his response was far too short, Baekhyun spoke again.

“Are you heading towards the metro station?”

The older male gave a small nod.

“If you don’t mind, we can share my umbrella.” Said Baekhyun with crescent-shaped eyes. 

Chanyeol wished to say no, but the word just wouldn’t depart from his lips as he gazed tenderly at the boy in front of him. It seemed that even after five years, Byun Baekhyun still contained the ability to evoke every bit of Chanyeol’s protective instinct. His hand reached for the handle of the umbrella.

“Thank you. And I’ll carry it, if you wouldn’t mind as well.”

Baekhyun gently shook his head.

The trip to the metro station had never felt so long to the older male who intentionally fixed his gaze on nothin but the road ahead. Yet, each time his arm brushed against Baekhyun’s shoulder, Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice the stifling silence that had occupied every breath of air beneath the other’s black umbrella. 

“Hey Mr Park.”

“Yes?”

“I couldn’t find you in the art room during lunch today.”

Both of them kept walking forward, despite the small pause that Chanyeol left amidst the falling rain. 

“I was eating in the cafeteria.” Finally, he replied.

“Ah, I see. Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Yeah. They served spicy pork belly today.”

“Is that your favourite dish?”

“I prefer chicken and potato stew.”

Baekhyun suddenly turned towards him with a lovely grin. “That’s my favourite as well.”

And almost immediately, Chanyeol turned away from the boy. He nodded in response.

The Byun Baekhyun beside him felt far too different from the Byun Baekhyun he knew five years ago, so much that Park Chanyeol couldn’t help to question if this was still the same dream he saw that morning. Although, it would be a different mystery why he dreamt of the boy in the very first place.

“Hey Mr Park, how was it like for you in your first year as a teacher?”

Chanyeol thought for a while. “I was stupidly naive back then, and tried too hard to make everyone like me.” Which was the truth, he believed.

“Do you regret that?”

The older of the two wasn’t sure how to answer.

Five years suddenly felt like a long time ago, and the twenty-four year old Park Chanyeol almost seemed like a different person compared to who he was today. Because it took those five years for Chanyeol to realise that there was no need for him to pretend anymore. He was far too gullible, far too desperate, and far too oblivious for barging into other people’s worlds unannounced.

At last, Chanyeol answered, “Perhaps.”

He didn’t hear a reply from Baekhyun until a little later.

“Is that so? Because I don’t think you should.”

This time, Park Chanyeol didn’t resist gazing into Baekhyun’s eyes, which gleamed ever so brightly despite the absence of the moon and the stars. 

“You might not think much of it, but your kindness meant a lot to me back then. You see, I was going through a tough time in my third year of high school, and if it weren’t for those lunchtimes with your company, who knows how terrible school would’ve been like.”

There was a gentle pause that made Chanyeol hold his breath. Never in the world did he dare to anticipate the next few words that left Baekhyun’s lips.

“Thank you for entering my life Mr Park. I really mean it.”

It sounded oddly like a confession.

If the twenty-four year old Park Chanyeol knew that his heart would one day skip uncontrollably fast for the boy named Byun Baekhyun, he would undoubtedly laugh it off like an unheard joke. But right now, as the twenty-nine year old Park Chanyeol stood before the other with unblinking eyes, he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Sorry my train is due in two minutes. I’ll see you tomorrow Mr Park!”

The said man didn’t notice that they had already reached the station as he remained frozen in his spot, his gaze fixed over Baekhyun’s disappearing backside that soon vanished amongst the moving crowd.

Five years ago, Park Chanyeol managed to push away every impure thought that formed at the sight of Baekhyun’s pink-dusted cheeks and bashful eyes. Yet now, he wasn’t sure if he still had enough determination to do the same.

~~~

There seemed to have been a new, indescribable feeling that resided within Park Chanyeol, something anxious but also rather tender, something soft yet fragile. At the sight of ‘Mr Byun’ who had taken up the desk cross from him in the cramped staff room, Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel a little nervous each chance he gazed up, as his eyes would automatically land on the younger male’s face. Sometimes Baekhyun would return his gaze and smile a little, an act that always managed to stir a tiny ripple within Chanyeol’s heart. And during the moments that Baekhyun didn’t look back at him, the older male still found himself pause more than a little longer at the other’s focused profile. 

He really needed to snap out of it. He shouldn’t feel this way about someone who was once his student, a very fond one at that. It was bad. And wrong. Because his feelings that grew for Byun Baekhyun since his return were anything but innocent.

It was forever during the deepest hours of the night when Chanyeol’s mind would instinctively draw towards the boy, as if it had already become something of a habit. He wondered about many things, like what made Baekhyun change so much, to the point that he almost acted like a different person? Why was he so warm to Chanyeol? Was it genuine? Or merely for the sake that the older male was once his teacher?

Could Baekhyun still possibly hold the same feelings that he did five years ago?

Ever since his first love, which merely arrived and left in a swift haze, Chanyeol had never felt this troubled about a person who managed to occupy his heart. So what was it that made Baekhyun this special?

He didn’t know.

~~~

People say that it was always at the grocery store when one would bump into people from their past, and that just so happened to be proven true by Park Chanyeol on a Thursday night, as he placed a carton of eggs inside his shopping basket.

“Mr Park?”

The said man looked up.

The person in front of him immediately gave a small bow as he smiled warmly. “I’m Kim Jongin, a student you taught five years ago. Would you still remember me?”

It took no more than a second for Park Chanyeol to rewind his mind. Ah yes, Kim Jongin, the boy who sat beside Baekhyun at the back of the room. 

Chanyeol soon returned the smile and uttered, “Of course, how have you been?”

“I’ve been quite well. Just started working last year at a small IT company.”

“That’s great to hear.” The older male’s lips curved into his usual smile, although he wished the conversation could end a bit sooner. There was a period of time five years ago when Chanyeol suspected Baekhyun to hold feelings for Jongin, that was, before everything took a dramatic turn. 

“I heard Baekhyun is now a teacher at our high school. How’s he doing?”

At the sound of the familiar name, Park Chanyeol felt his heartbeats speed up. “He’s doing well too. He’s a lot more outspoken now.”

Jongin gave a soft nod as his eyes turned a little melancholic. Chanyeol wondered why.

“That’s good to hear.” The younger male replied. “I was honestly a little worried at first when he decided to get into teaching, considering what happened five years ago.”

Puzzled, Chanyeol immediately questioned, “What happened five years ago?

Jongin also tilted his head in confusion, then widened his eyes as if he suddenly remembered something. “Ah, I forgot that you weren’t at school that day Mr Park.” He cleared his throat. “On the day of our graduation, Baekhyun was caught in a car accident at the school gate. Although it wasn’t fatal, he was still unconscious due to shock for almost an entire day. He also injured his right hand.”

As the other spoke, Park Chanyeol felt his hands tightly clench the handles of his shopping basket while all sorts of questions buzzed amidst the chaos of his thoughts. 

How could he not know any of this until now?

If he didn’t meet Jongin, how much longer would this be kept from him?

Why didn’t he pay more attention to that email from five year ago?

Chanyeol suddenly wished he could turn back in time. Yet, even if he could, would he really make a different choice on that particular morning? Or rather, did he have a choice at all?

As Chanyeol slowly walked back home beneath the shadow of the quiet streets, his heart felt ever so heavy. Would it be alright if he asked Baekhyun about this tomorrow? Or should he just keep quiet, like he didn’t meet Jongin that night at all?

Maybe he should have asked for the other’s number on the day he was back, Chanyeol thought to himself as he entered his dim apartment. But what for? It wasn’t like the older male had a reasonable enough excuse to contact Baekhyun after school hours. With a sigh, Park Chanyeol slumped onto his couch, disregarding the grocery bags that still stood at the door. He wondered if the distance between them had always been this terrifyingly great.

~~~

It was in the middle of that night when Park Chanyeol finally decided that he was going to ask Baekhyun for a small chat after all.

Maybe they could head somewhere warm and quiet, like a cafe, or somewhere where they could be peacefully alone, like a place beside the Han River. It then occurred to Chanyeol that both options would make the occasion seem too much like a date, not that he would admit that he wouldn’t mind at all, inside his wildest dreams. 

But Park Chanyeol felt determined, immensely so.

He was going to be a little selfish this time around and disregard every other voice inside his head.

He was going to close the distance between them, even just by a tiny bit.

~~~

Just like five years ago, Park Chanyeol received another call from the hospital before the rise of the sun the next morning. His father received another cardiac arrest. And this time, it was fatal.

~~~

Park Chanyeol wasn’t a good son, and he once never lied to himself otherwise. But to acknowledge this at the sight of his father’s heatless body beneath the white hospital sheet only tore Chanyeol’s heart into tiny pieces.

He hadn’t properly cried in a long, long time, at least since his mother’s funeral. And maybe that was the reason why not a single tear slid down Chanyeol’s cheeks as he stood beside his father, eyes lifeless and hollow. After so long, he finally began to understand why his father also didn’t cry when his mother passed away, unlike himself.

Because life was fleeting and strange. It was hard to understand everything at once when just a few seconds ago, nothing seemed wrong at all. 

When the doctors and nurses gave Chanyeol one last sorrowful bow in unison, he didn’t waver.

As he stood before the funeral hall with a rare smiling headshot of his father held within his white gloved hands, he didn’t waver.

Even when his youngest aunt gave him a delicate letter along with his father’s will that were accompanied by her choked sobs and agonising tears, he still didn’t waver. 

It seemed that just like how his father left the world, his funeral too, was quiet and brief. So it was true that his father never made that many friends, Chanyeol thought emotionlessly as he sent off the last of his father’s visitors. Mechanically, he stepped back inside the room where the headshot of his father resided amongst a wall of flowers. Chanyeol didn’t know if his father liked flowers, because he had never seen the man receive any, including those from himself. He also didn’t know if his father ever liked wearing dark suits, or drinking sugarless coffee at the dead of the night.

A week was all it took for Chanyeol to return back to his apartment with a sealed cardboard box occupied by everything he could pick up from his father’s office. He placed the box at the top of the dining table, and finally took out the two envelopes that had long crumpled within the tight space of his pocket. Uncontrollably, Park Chanyeol’s hands shook as he walked inside his room and sat over his bed. It took him ten minutes to read the letter. And another ten to look over his father’s will. When he finished, Chanyeol carefully folded them back inside the envelopes.

The upper half of his body could no longer remain upright as he sank onto messy sheets, just like the way he left them a week ago. And soon enough, his eyes fluttered close, leaving colourless trails over his cheeks that heart-wrenchingly gleamed beneath the last ray of sunlight.

~~~

Park Chanyeol didn’t know how many hours or days had passed when he was woken by the sound of the doorbell. He sat still for a moment in bed, just to make sure that it was his own doorbell that rang. 

It was after a few more minutes when Chanyeol finally opened the front door as his gaze landed on Baekhyun who crouched beside it.

A gentle hand immediately found its place against Chanyeol’s forehead.

“You have a fever Mr Park.” Spoke Baekhyun whose face was barely inches from his own within the span of a mere few seconds. The said man was at a loss for words, so he gave a small nod.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“...I don’t know.”

“And the last time you took a shower?”

“...I’m not sure either.”

“May I come inside?”

Yet this time, before Chanyeol could offer a reply, Baekhyun had already entered through the door and placed two grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. “You wouldn’t mind if I use the stove right?”

The older male shook his head.

And it was then when Baekhyun’s hand circled around Chanyeol’s wrist as he forcibly dragged the other towards the direction of his bedroom.

“In the meantime, rest well.” The younger male smiled, before carefully closing the bedroom door.

Park Chanyeol firmly believed that he was still dreaming.

~~~

“Hey Mr Park, please wake up.”

At the sound of his bedroom curtain sliding to one side, the said man hesitantly opened his eyes. He sat up a little straighter the same time when Baekhyun also seated himself on the edge of the bed. “I hope you don’t mind porridge.” The younger male uttered softly, with eyes that quickly glanced to the porcelain bowl, silver spoon and glass of water beside the envelopes. 

Chanyeol shook his head. He sheepishly cleared his throat and croakily muttered, “Thank you.”

“You have a very nice place Mr Park.” Baekhyun grinned back with tenderness in his eyes.

“...Is that so.”

“I quite like your pot plants by the veranda. Although, I hope you don’t mind that I watered a few. They looked a little dehydrated.”

The corner of Chanyeol’s lips painfully lifted upwards. He stared into Baekhyun’s eyes as the other sat still and gazed back. The both of them remained silent for a long time before Park Chanyeol spoke, ever so quietly, his voice like a fragile leaf carried away by a wisp of wind.

“Baekhyun, I don’t have a dad anymore.”

The said male didn’t reply.

Rather, his hand slowly reached up and gently caressed Chanyeol’s cheek, which had long become moist with tears. Even Chanyeol himself hadn’t noticed that he was crying until this moment. He heard the other stand up as the warmth of Baekhyun’s palm also departed from the side of his face. 

For a moment Chanyeol felt incredibly afraid that he was going to leave. Yet it was a second later when the older male found himself within a tight embrace as the other softly hugged his head to his stomach. 

The letter, the will, the last time he called his father. The last time they saw each other. The last time he was at the hospital for his father’s first cardiac arrest. His father’s backside inside his stuffy and dim office, his mother’s funeral, his father who held his mother’s hand until her final moment. The three of them who all smiled inside their new family home. The three of them at the amusement park. The three of them, together.

Every image flashed through his head at once as Chanyeol heartbreakingly repeated, “I don’t have a dad anymore.” His voice was weak and broken as his arms circled around Baekhyun’s slender waist.

With face buried in Baekhyun’s warm embrace, Chanyeol felt the other’s linen shirt being soaked by nothing but endless tears.

Yet, he didn’t dare to let go.

~~~

When Chanyeol woke up again, the other side of his bed was empty. Hazily, with half-lidded eyes and uncoordinated stepped, he stumbled inside the bathroom and took a shower that was cold and long. 

Much to his surprise as Park Chanyeol finally stepped out of the bathroom door with dripping hair, a warm towel delicately found its way over the top of his head. The soft fabric of white cotton narrowed his sight, as his eyes immediately found their way to the smiling face of Byun Baekhyun.

“Good morning.” The younger male greeted.

‘G-good morning.” Chanyeol stuttered back. He couldn’t quite find the words that he wished to say, so he didn’t speak anymore than that. Instead, his eyes slowly travelled through the short hallway to the living room that was lit by bright sunlight. The scent of something delicious flowed to Chanyeol’s nose.

Baekhyun uttered, “I hope an omelette is alright for breakfast. Is your stomach feeling okay?”

The older male nodded in reply.

He followed Baekhyun’s footsteps to the small dining table, where a single plate silently rested. Chanyeol then heard the shuffling of shoes, which instantly led his eyes to the door as Baekhyun placed his hand over the door handle. 

“Are you leaving?” The sudden squeeze of Chanyeol’s heart was far too agonising to escape unnoticed.

The younger male turned around and gave a small nod. “I have a class before noon and another one in the last period. But I will be back tonight, so please open the door for me.” He smiled ever so dazzlingly. It was a beautiful sight that Chanyeol wished to treasure a little longer.

“The drawer beside you!”

Park Chanyeol frantically called across the room with anxious eyes desperately glued onto the person in front of him, as if even by looking away for a mere second, Baekhyun would disappear. “There is an extra key inside. P-please… Please don’t lose it.”

Baekhyun’s feet were fixed to the floor as he unblinkingly stared back at Chanyeol. Perhaps if they were standing just a little closer, the older male would have noticed the swift gleam that suddenly occupied the corner of his eyes.

It was after a short moment when Baekhyun finally nodded in reply.

They both exchanged a quiet farewell, before the younger male exited through the front door without glancing back. Yet nonetheless, Park Chanyeol still found his heart beating uncontrollably fast within his chest, ever so anxiously, ever so impatiently. With his back against the door, he slowly sunk to the floor and buried his face in the heart of his heated palms. A long sigh escaped Chanyeol’s lips, as the morning sunlight finally seeped through the gaps between the grey curtains that covered the living room, into his world. 

~~~

For almost an entire fortnight, Baekhyun’s presence weaved in and out of Chanyeol’s apartment like delicate embroidery lines that danced over dark satin. As each day passed by, the older male would find a new carton of strawberry milk, along with groceries and prepared meals that occupied the space of his tiny fridge. It was always after six when Chanyeol would hear the gentle knock on his door, despite the absence of his extra key in the side drawer. Then they would eat dinner prepared by Baekhyun, who always got a little embarrassed every chance he rested the final plate over the dining table. 

“I only know how to cook a few simple things. Sorry that you have to eat this again.” The younger male uttered as he sat down opposite of Chanyeol.

With the shake of his head, the other replied, “I’m grateful enough for you to be here in the past two weeks.”

At that he noticed a faint dash of pink that bloomed over Baekhyun’s cheeks, a rather frequent sight Chanyeol had the pleasure to witness in the past few days.

“I’m returning to work tomorrow.” The older male suddenly announced amidst the peaceful silence.

With eyes of surprise, Baekhyun’s gaze landed on him. “That’s… very soon.” He muttered.

Chanyeol nodded. “But it’s about time. After all, life waits for no one.” At that, he gave Baekhyun a nonchalant smile.

The other didn’t reply.

After a while, Park Chanyeol spoke again, without meeting the younger male’s eyes.

“I am really the worst, aren’t I.” His voice was faint and low.

“I-I beg your pardon?”

Joylessly, Chanyeol quietly chuckled to himself. “The fact that I burdened you for the past two weeks without even properly thanking you. The fact that I knew what was inside your sketchbook from five years ago but pretended like I didn’t.”

With dejected eyes, he paused.

“I should have visited him more, my father. But I was too caught up in my own excuses to do that, just like I have always been with everything else in life. I’m just… I wish someone could tell me what to do. I just don’t want to be a terrible person anymore-”

“Mr Park.”

The lovely sound of Baekhyun’s voice suddenly made Park Chanyeol pause in his words.

“Please don’t say that Mr Park.”

The older male finally gazed up.

For someone who was easily flustered, Baekhyun’s voice was unwavering and assured, which made Chanyeol a little surprised.

“I don’t know how your relationship was with your father and it always takes time for wounds to heal, but please don’t put yourself down like that. You know, it quite hurts to hear those words coming from your lips.”

Park Chanyeol was at a loss for words. Hopelessly and hesitantly, he stared into Baekhyun’s affectionate, dark eyes.

“I truly wish that you didn’t need another person to tell you this, but you are amazingly kind Mr Park, incredibly so. Aside from Jongin, you were the only other person who approached me at school when no one else did. You didn’t gaze down at me like every other adult would either, because instead, you wished for us to become friends.

“It was extremely frightening for me to arrive at Seoul all by myself and learn to live here despite how cold the city can feel. Yet meeting you, life didn’t feel as suffocatingly unsparing as it did before. I think sometimes, even just a tiny spark of warmth is enough to light up one’s heart. Especially when we are too caught up in the cruelness of the world to appreciate what is left of its beauty. And in all honesty, I can’t be thankful enough to have encountered you in my third year of high school Mr Park. 

“Thank you, for becoming a hero who rescued the clumsy protagonist in the nineteenth chapter of his story.

“Thank you for becoming an important part of my life.”

A single minute was all it took for the light to return to Chanyeol’s eyes.

He always knew there was something magical about Byun Baekhyun.

And if Park Chanyeol was extremely drunk, to the point that he no longer cared about any consequence for his actions, he probably would’ve kissed the other right then and there. Except at that moment, he was painfully sober, more than ever.

But Chanyeol still found himself inching towards the other across the table, ever subtly and slow.

“And,” The older male was abruptly paused from moving any further at the sound of Baekhyun’s voice. “I didn’t exactly want anything in return for the last two weeks. But, if you are still thinking of thanking me, I hope you are free next Saturday.”

The young male threw in a playful wink, something he would never do during a normal occasion, and with complete disregard of the solemn atmosphere just a few moments ago.

With a hopeless smile like a fool in love, Chanyeol thought to himself,  _ oh what am I going to do with you, Byun Baekhyun? _

~~~

To say that Chanyeol was more nervous than anyone could possibly imagine was no exaggeration as he stood before the entrance of the cinema with two movie tickets in hand. The weather was warm that Saturday afternoon, maybe a little too warm for Chanyeol’s liking on a day like this, when he tried his best to pick out a decent outfit that wasn’t suit and tie. He stared down at the movie tickets, then at the top of his shoes.

Somehow, Chanyeol wondered if it was alright for him to call Baekhyun right now and cancel their meeting. Because god, this felt insanely nerve-racking, almost like the first ever date that Park Chanyeol went on when he was still in university.

“Did you wait for long?”

The older male took a surprised stumble backwards, just as the same time when Baekhyun’s hand clasped onto his.

“You scared me.” Uttered Chanyeol whose heart pounded immensely loud because despite that he stood upright again, Baekhyun didn’t let go.

The young male softly replied, “Sorry about that.” His eyes were downcast as he gazed at the movie tickets in Chanyeol’s other hand with a gentle smile.

Meanwhile, the other anxious held onto his hasty breaths, too afraid for them to brush over dark, dainty lashes that stood against Baekhyun’s pale skin. 

“Thanks again for getting them.” Said the younger male.

“It’s my treat after all.”

As the two stood still, Park Chanyeol thought Baekhyun couldn’t appear any lovelier as he tried to resist the grin that soon took shape by the edge of his lips.

The younger male abruptly gazed up, which caught him immensely off guard.

“It’s time to head inside.”

Chanyeol merely offered a stiff nod in reply.

~~~

He didn’t know what the movie was about, or what occurred during it. Because it seemed all that occupied Chanyeol’s mind were endless thoughts about the person beside him. Would he be a mindless fool for wishing to believe that maybe Baekhyun’s feelings never changed after five years? He wondered.

How did Baekhyun really feel when Chanyeol confessed that he saw the drawings in his sketchbook? 

And since when did the atmosphere between them become so awkwardly fragile? As if with even just an extra glance, everything could shatter into tiny pieces.

Was it really just Park Chanyeol who had become far too paranoid?

Questions, questions and more questions. All of the which he couldn’t find an answer to. Chanyeol felt like a madman as he harshly rubbed his eyes with cold fingers. God, just what on earth was wrong with him-

_ “I want you more than any blue sky.” _

A small string of words suddenly departed from Baekhyun’s lips, making Chanyeol look over with alarmed eyes.

It seemed the younger male merely repeated a line from the movie, yet to Park Chanyeol, it was as if every torturous voice trapped within his mind was hushed by a single whisper. As incredible warmth began to submerge the brown orbs of his eyes, Chanyeol stared at the man beside him with so much adoration and fondness that it felt suffocating to remain silent. 

Within such a huge world, it was hard to meet that single person you wished to cherish for a lifetime. Yet, there always existed a group of people who were far more fortunate than others. And for the first time in his life, Park Chanyeol chose to believe he was someone incredibly lucky. The fact that he met Byun Baekhyun during that fated spring as words of the cherry blossoms ushered him to find the boy with dark eyes at the very back of the classroom.

His smile, his blush, his grin, his frown. His hesitance, his nervousness, his embarrassment, his timidness. Everything about Byun Baekhyun was lovely, like the beautiful petals of white lilacs that bloomed amidst a field of green.

It was everything that Park Chanyeol wished to hold incredibly dear to his restless pounding heart.

~~~

Even when the last credits disappeared from the screen and the orange lights from above shone over their heads, neither Chanyeol or Baekhyun moved from their seats.

“Hey Mr Park.”

“Yes?”

“Would it be too selfish of me if I ask you to take me somewhere else right now?”

“My time is all yours.”

_ And everything else as well. _

Much to his surprise, Park Chanyeol soon found himself seated by the counter of the bar which he and Joonmyeon would frequently visit.

“Did Joonmyeon finally decide to change his face? Because I have to say, the surgeon really did a very good job.” From behind the counter, Jongdae whispered into Chanyeol’s ear as he nonchalantly whisked the drink in his hand.

The other threw back a glare. “I swear to god Jongdae. Please leave me alone today. I’ll make sure to give you extra tips.”

At that the bartender cheekily winked. “I got you man.” And then he turned towards Baekhyun with a knowing smile. “What can I get for this gentleman over here?”

Baekhyun bashfully looked down. “I... um… I’m actually not very good with alcohol.”

“Then a beginner’s cocktail it is!”

As Chanyeol took a sip from his own glass with an unexplainable annoyance, he glared at Jongdae once again. God, he wished the bartender could just go away.

“Hey Mr Park. Who was the man that kissed you at the convenience store?”

Glad that he had enough willpower to swallow the sip without leaking a single drop, Chanyeol found himself coughing awkwardly at Baekhyun’s abrupt question. Suddenly exceptionally embarrassed, the older male gave the other a hesitant glance.

Who knew the boy had such a good memory?

“A very close friend.” He sheepishly replied. “We’ve known each other since high school, and it’s a bad habit of his to kiss everyone else around him whenever he’s drunk.”

“So you have kissed more than once?”

“I… Um... Uh… yeah.” Chanyeol couldn’t exactly find himself denying the truth, especially when Baekhyun was staring at him with so much intensity beneath the dim hanging lights. “But I swear that time at the convenience store was the last! From then on I always made sure that Jongdae diluted his drinks, or had Joonmyeon’s boyfriend pick him up.”

The other didn’t look particularly convinced as he detached his gaze and gave a tiny nod. “You have an interesting friend Mr Park.” He whispered. 

Oh he sure is beyond interesting alright, the man thought to himself as he nervously stole another glance at Baekhyun. Then a sudden thought occurred to him.

Could it be… that the boy was sulking?

Was he jealous?

Yet, just when Park Chanyeol decided to turn towards Baekhyun and reassure that there really was nothing going on between him and Joonmyeon, Jongdae’s voice suddenly channelled through the space between them.

“Here we are, the signature cocktail. Enjoy~”

Chanyeol couldn’t help but click his tongue in annoyance, something that he usually found rather ill-mannered in public.

And it just so happened that night, Jongdae also didn’t find any extra cash in the ‘tips’ jar.

~~~

It wasn’t particularly to Chanyeol’s surprise when he found himself chasing after Baekhyun two hours later, as the younger male danced along the dim street with unfocused eyes and heated cheeks.

“I’m hungry Mr Park.” Baekhyun uttered with a drunken grin. “Maybe we should’ve grabbed dinner before going to the bar.” And then he took a tiny stumble backwards, which alerted Chanyeol to instantly leap forward and catch the other in his arms.

The older male shook his head with tender eyes and a relieved sigh.

Beneath the buzzing street lamp, Baekhyun’s raven hair was a little disheveled. Meanwhile, his red lips formed an adorable pout, something the sober Baekhyun would never do in front of Chanyeol. In fact, ever since the boy entered his life for the second time, the older male often noticed a sort of forcefulness that would bound Baekhyun to a mask of composure. It was as if he was trying his best to resemble someone solemn yet dull, the kind of maturity that only people much older than him would carry.

At once, the part of Chanyeol that was uncontrollably in love felt exceptionally glad he had a high alcohol tolerance, to witness such a loveable sight during an hour when he would usually find himself alone. He merely watched with fond eyes as the younger male innocently snuggled against his chest.

“I’m cold.” Baekhyun muttered.

But the weather was anything but chilly, Chanyeol believed, who soon gazed ahead at the naked branches of cherry blossom trees that withstood the first winds of summer. He smiled to himself.

When they finally arrived at Chanyeol’s apartment, Baekhyun seemed to have fallen asleep on the older male’s back. So ever so delicately, Chanyeol rested him onto the top of his bed.

Yet despite his gentleness, Baekhyun woke up nonetheless with fluttering lashes and puffed cheeks. “I want water.” He pouted.

Chanyeol nodded and immediately left for the kitchen.

The moment when he returned, it seemed Baekhyun already cocooned himself within Chanyeol’s blanket as only his flushed face stuck out from the cloud of white. With an affectionate smile, the older softly uttered, “You will feel very hot like that.” He carefully reached forward for the blanket.

The young male quickly shook his head and moved away from Chanyeol’s grasp. “No. Mine.” He slowly murmured with downcast eyes. 

There was a possibility that Baekhyun would remember all his drunken deeds the next morning, yet despite that, Chanyeol’s hand still found its place softly caressing the younger’s pink cheek.

“Hey Baekhyun, may I ask you something?”

The younger male nodded with closed eyes.

“Why did you become a teacher?”

“...Because of Mr Park.”

“Why did you come back to the school?”

“Because… hehe... because of Mr Park.”

Chanyeol paused for a moment. But before the third question managed to depart from his lips, Baekhyun’s hand was already raised to the air, as if they were back inside the art room where everything wonderful began. 

“My turn!” His lovely voice chimed by the walls.

It was a moment later when Baekhyun’s voice became lower, and much softer. He hesitantly opened his eyes.

“Why did Mr Park pretend like he didn’t see Byun Baekhyun’s sketchbook?”

“I-”

“Why didn’t Mr Park confront Byun Baekhyun about it?”

“Baekhyun-”

“Is it… it is alright now? For Byun Baekhyun to love Mr Park with all his heart?”

Park Chanyeol could no longer hear the ticking of the clock, or the pattern of Baekhyun’s soft breaths, or the white noises of the world outside his room. It seemed the young male forever held the spell to make his world pause. Finally, a soft kiss landed atop of Baekhyun’s forehead, then his cheeks, and at last, the tip of his adorable nose. Baekhyun closed his eyes once again as the heat of two large palms delicately pressed against his cheeks, with so much care and gentleness, so much love and adoration, so much longing and desire. 

Indeed, Byun Baekhyun’s existence painted Park Chanyeol’s world beneath the sparks of a million flying colours.

“Little fool. Of course it is.”

\-------

Byun Baekhyun hated to swear.

There was just something about the bitter taste of profanities the moment they left his lips that would always make the man shudder in disbelief at what he just said. Yet, as Baekhyun woke up and found himself alone within Mr Park’s bedroom, the only word that rose to his lips was a quiet-

“Fuck.”

He muttered that to no one else but himself. 

There were shifty glimpses from last night that remained within Baekhyun’s memory like pieces of an unfinished puzzle. Although, it would only take him great efforts to differentiate which parts were real, and which parts were merely fragments of a very lovely dream.

Byun Baekhyun suddenly felt immensely afraid to step away from this room.

Five years was a long time to the twenty-four year old Byun Baekhyun, yet at the same time it also seemed to have passed along the single flutter of white curtains in an empty classroom. It was hard to put into words everything that had occurred within the time in which Baekhyun’s life was void of Mr Park’s presence, just like the indescribable joy and nervousness he felt when he saw the man once again. Although, he must admit that it would’ve been quite unimaginable in the past, the fact that Baekhyun would one day learn to act brave in front of the only person who forever made his knees unsteadily tremble. Baekhyun also wasn’t sure if he should feel glad or disheartened at the fact that the both of them had changed far more than he anticipated. 

The moment that Baekhyun finally took a step away from Mr Park’s bed was the same moment when soft knocks landed on the other side of the door.

“Are you awake Baekhyun?” Asked Mr Park. His voice was basked within a serene warmth that forever managed to stir the younger male’s heart.

Baekhyun nodded, before he realised how foolish he was considering that Mr Park couldn’t see him. He cleared his throat.

“Y-yes.”

“May I come in?”

Byun Baekhyun wasn’t particularly in the place to refuse, so he hesitantly repeated his previous reply. 

“...Yes.”

The door slowly opened, as a ray of light escaped through the gap that gradually widened.

“Good morning.” Mr Park greeted, who walked inside with neat hair and a different set of clothes from yesterday. Baekhyun believed he looked incredibly dashing, just like every other day. He gave a small nod in reply.

For a moment, the younger male felt like his old self was back, the more hesitant and afraid version of Byun Baekhyun who constantly worried for his place within the big, frightening world. Baekhyun didn’t want to return to that person. At least, not in the presence of Mr Park anymore. But it seemed his silence didn’t at all bother the older male, as he stood before Baekhyun.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought you back to my place. There’s soup on the dining table. It’s good for a hangover.”

Byun Baekhyun had been so bothered by everything else that the ache of his head almost slipped by unnoticed. Wordlessly, he followed the other into the living room, where Mr Park pulled out a chair for Baekhyun. The older male then seated himself on the opposite side of the dining table. 

“Thank you.” The words were small and quiet when they left Baekhyun’s pale lips.

Mr Park smiled. “My pleasure.”

With careful sips, Baekhyun fixed his gaze on the porcelain bowl in front of him. It was the same bowl he used when he made porridge for Mr Park the first time.

Clearly, between the both of them, the older man was the best cook.

Not that it mattered, Byun Baekhyun reprimanded himself. It had been established five years ago that he shouldn’t wish for anything more out of the relationship they already had. That was right.

He shouldn’t.

“Are you free today?” Suddenly asked Mr Park.

“I-I beg your pardon?” His spoon tilted to the side as Baekhyun looked up in alarm. “E-eh yes. Yes I am.”

He wondered just how many times he embarrassed himself in front of the other the night before. At the thought, Baekhyun’s ears slowly turned pink. His cheeks too. 

“Great!” Mr Park grinned.

“But um… I might need to head home first, and uh, get a change of clothes.” Baekhyun muttered with shifty eyes that felt hesitant to stare directly at the man opposite of him. 

The older male nodded. “Then let’s meet at the art gallery next to the school at around 11.”

“Art gallery?”

“That’s right.” Mr Park grinned again. “The art gallery.”

~~~

Baekhyun wondered when was the last time he stood before the entrance of an art gallery.

It seemed even the light summer breezes weren’t enough to brush away his unease as Baekhyun’s hands tightly clenched around the strap of his bag, which rested diagonally over his chest. Where he stood beneath the shade of leafy green, a thousand questions buzzed within the young teacher’s head.

Was he dressed decently enough?

Why the art gallery, of all places?

Why would Mr Park hang out with him two days in a row?

Could this count as… as a date?

What exactly kind of relationship did they hold?

“Is your head feeling better?”

Baekhyun didn’t quite anticipate for a question to become verbal, especially to resonate through the voice of Mr Park as he stared up from the ground with fidgety fingers. The younger male nodded.

“Sorry,” Mr Park suddenly apologised. “I should’ve considered your condition before asking you out like this.”

Ask him out? Baekhyun couldn’t no longer stop the red lights from flashing inside his head. He forcefully shook his head. “No. I’m fine, really.” And what was he thinking so giddily about anyway? It wasn’t like he was nineteen anymore.

A second later, Baekhyun found his hand within Mr Park’s much larger one, as the older male excitedly uttered, “Let’s go!”

What on earth was happening!?

~~~

Byun Baekhyun really had to hold an applause for himself, for the fact that he managed to act nonchalant and composed from the moment he became a teacher to this very day. That was, until he decided to get drunk last night and everything else happened.

As the two of them walked through the moving crowd, Baekhyun couldn’t help to feel a little bothered about the fact that Mr Park’s hand was still firmly grasped around his own. What exactly came to this? What exactly was Mr Park thinking inside his head? What did he intend for this gesture to reveal? Was it really simply just because there were too many people and it was easy to get lost?

Although his headache had long disappeared, Baekhyun’s mind still remained a chaotic mess. It took him a little while to notice that the both of them had stopped moving forward, as Mr Park seemed to have paused before a particular artwork in graphite.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Uttered the older male.

Baekhyun’s eyes followed the gaze of Mr Park and landed upon a framed drawing. Nostalgia and melancholy arrived far too soon, which made his reply immensely small.

“Yeah. It is."

“But as biased as this may sound, I think your drawings were far better. In fact, they were probably the most wonderful drawings I have ever seen.”

Unable to process what he just heard, Baekhyun turned to the man beside him.

Mr Park’s eyes remained on the artwork as he continued. “You see Baekhyun, from the first time I caught a glimpse of the first page of your sketchbook, I knew you would become someone hard to forget. Because after all, it wasn’t everyday when one could meet someone far more incredible than themselves.”

“Mr Park I-”

“This probably sounds very abrupt, and I admit, it is. But these words had always been inside my head since you arrived back at the school, and back as an important person in my life as well. It probably shouldn’t have taken me this long to apologise to you for purposely avoiding you after seeing your drawings of me. I was a lot more naive back then, and only considered the set of rules and boundaries I needed to obey as a teacher. Yet it didn’t cross my mind to also value your feelings, which were just as precious as any sort of pride and duty, if not more. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything back then. Those drawings were very beautiful Baekhyun. Thank you for spending your time in creating those lovely artworks.”

Baekhyun couldn’t help it as his sight suddenly turned blurry, because it seemed Mr Park only happened to unlock everything that he barely managed to conceal over the past five years. It was too abrupt and too unexpected, too genuine and too affectionate. Too much for Byun Baekhyun to take in at once.

“I can’t draw like that anymore.” Shakily, he spoke after a long pause. 

In the next instant, Baekhyun lifted up his right hand and placed it over the top of Mr Park’s heart. 

“Can you feel it?” The younger male painfully whispered as tears rolled down his cheeks. “The trembles. They just won’t stop.”

He really didn’t mean to cry like this, or to behave like he was vulnerable and fragile. But he truly couldn’t stop himself when it was Park Chanyeol who stood before him with the most tender eyes, as if telling Baekhyun that he was someone precious. Soon enough, Baekhyun felt himself escaping through the crowd with only blurry glimpses of Mr Park’s backside that occupied his field of sight. The older male’s hand felt immensely warm as Baekhyun embarrassedly wiped away his tears with tiny hiccups that escaped his lips.

When they finally stopped, it was inside the empty art room at school.

Baekhyun had no clue how they managed to get inside, since it was Sunday mid-noon and Mr Park definitely wasn’t any sort of magician. 

“Um Mr Park. It’s alright for you to let go of me now.” The younger male bashfully whispered.

“I won’t let go.”

Puzzled more than ever, yet also with the slightest hope that everything he wished for was no longer part of a very distant dream, Baekhyun gazed at the other with nothing but affection. He could hardly categorise the storm of emotions within him into any legible words. 

“W-what?”

As if afraid that Baekhyun didn’t hear him the first time, Mr Park’s voice became firmer as he repeated, “I won’t let go.”

His eyes held just as much intensity as Baekhyun’s own.

“Do you really mean those words Mr Park?”

Now with both his hands in the other’s grasp, Baekhyun felt Mr Park leaning down as he landed a gentle kiss on the backside of each one. “I do.” The older male uttered. “From the entire depth of my heart.” He kissed Baekhyun’s right hand once more.

And as if his world was spinning beneath the gentle sun, the younger male began to feel a little dizzy.

“But… What if you get disappointed in me?” He couldn’t help to question with heated cheeks.

“Well, I’m probably also not as nice as you think I am.”

“I have never been in a proper relationship before.”

“Then we’ll both try our best to make this work, together. So that it will hopefully be your first and last.”

“All this time while I’m back, I’ve only been trying to act like someone else so you wouldn’t think I’m too timid and bothersome.”

“I know, and that’s very adorable of you. But I love every aspect of Byun Baekhyun for there to exist.”

“I have also never kissed anyone in my life before.”

The warmth of a pair of large hands tenderly caressed Baekhyun’s cheeks as his forehead pressed against Mr Park’s. The older’s breath was soft when he slowly whispered, “Then you better prepare yourself.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes. 

It was a moment that ignited a sky of fireworks as their lips affectionately touched, ever so delicately, ever so warmly. Even if there were no stars that lit up the vast field of blue above, even if his right hand still lightly trembled as it pressed against Mr Park’s chest, even if tears began to form once again beneath Baekhyun’s closed eyelids, the kiss was still nothing but magical.

“I can’t breathe.” The younger male sheepishly whispered as they pulled apart the first time.

Mr Park smiled with closed eyes. “Then let’s try again. This time, breathe through your nose.”

And their lips met once again, this time with far more passion than Byun Baekhyun could possibly handle. His knees began to lose their strength, just at the same time when Mr Park’s right arm found its way tightly around his waist. Maybe it was alright for him to fall just a tiny bit, if it meant it was the older male’s embrace where he would land.

When they finally pulled away from each other the second time, the younger male found his head pressed against the other’s firm chest. He could hear Mr Park’s heart beats that didn’t cease from pacing with so much clarity and eagerness. Then he heard the other laugh, which made his chest shake gently against Baekhyun’s cheek.

“You aren’t too bad for a beginner.” Said Mr Park.

With a weak fist that slowly rose to the air, Baekhyun lightly punched his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

~~~

“By the way Baekhyun, I think you forgot to tell me something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love you.”

“...”

“Come on, it’s your turn.”

“...”

“Alright alright, let’s leave this place before the security guard decides to take a random stroll.”

“...I …I love you too, Mr Park. From the entire depth of my heart as well.”

~~~

[ _ One months later _ ]

As Baekhyun raised his right hand towards the roof of Chanyeol’s bedroom, he muttered, “Hey Mr Park, it might only be my imagination, but I think my hand isn’t shaking as much as it used to.”

A larger hand rose up next to his own and lovingly held onto his pale fingers. 

“It must’ve been hard.” The older male softly whispered beside Baekhyun’s ear, which immediately made him smile.

“At the hospital, my entire family rushed to the ward. To be honest, I didn’t know how to react since I wasn’t hurt badly at all. In fact, I hadn’t realised that I couldn’t hold a pencil without the tremors of my hand until my grandma handed me a new sketchbook.”

Chanyeol merely listened amidst the peaceful silence.

“But prior to that, she told me many things. You see, my grandma has always been my saviour in situations like these. Despite that she never stepped away from our village, she always told me it was alright to reach for the stars, even if they were hiding behind the clouds. One should always dream a little further.”

“She sounds like a wonderful lady.”

“She sure is. I told her that there was someone I love, but we won’t ever see each other again. And do you know what she replied? She told me to be brave and love with all my heart. She also told me to chase after that precious person and make sure they know how I feel before life takes everything over. Those were the words that eventually led me back to you, Mr Park. It did feel quite miserable that I couldn’t become a professional artist, but it also made me want to give teaching a try. And although it was rather a decision made in the spur of the moment, I have never once regretted it. It is wonderful to bask other people in the sort of warmth that I felt in my third year inside your classroom.” Baekhyun laughed softly. “But I suppose, you are stuck to share it with me now.”

The city outside felt ever so peaceful, just like the rhythm of his heartbeats.

“Ah also!” The younger male abruptly sat up straight and turned back towards Chanyeol. “I’m glad you didn’t confront me about my feelings in the past Mr Park. Or else, I would have given up a long time ago.”

Then at once, Baekhyun felt himself being pulled back down as his vision tumbled, until the face of Chanyeol was directly above him. The younger male smiled bashfully. 

“For someone who was so quiet when we first met, you sure are a smooth talker.” Chanyeol’s voice was low as he gently tapped the other’s nose. “And since we are on the topic, we really need to get you out of the habit of calling me Mr Park. We are only five years apart yet every time you call me that, I feel like I have already lived twice as long as you.”

Baekhyun’s hands found their place at Chanyeol’s jaw as he leaned up and gave the older male a tiny peck on the lips. “Alright, Chanyeol.”

The other let out an affectionate sigh. He shook his head.

“You are very sneaky, Mr Byun.”

And then he dived down and pressed their lips together in a manner that was far less innocent than the first time. As Baekhyun closed his eyes, he felt Chanyeol’s tender hand trace against each button of his pyjama top, until the very last one came undone. Warm fingers rested atop of pale skin as Baekhyun subconsciously arched his back. A tiny sound escaped his lips amidst the kiss. It was of nothing but yearning and lust.

When Chanyeol’s fingers arousingly slid from Baekhyun’s chest to his stomach was also the moment when the older male gave the other’s red bottom lip a gentle bite. Baekhyun began to feel himself becoming more breathless with each loving touch. It didn’t take long for Chanyeol’s large palm to press against the softest spot on the inside of Baekhyun’s thigh as he finally broke away from the kiss. The younger male’s eyes helplessly followed the sudden shift of his torso when Chanyeol carefully removed his pyjama pants and underwear.

Every time the older male did this, Baekhyun forever found himself blushing madly beneath the other’s heated gaze. 

A kiss landed at the spot on his thigh where Chanyeol’s hand rested a few seconds ago, just as the same time when Baekhyun felt the other’s long fingers caress the tender slope of his bottom. Then little uncontrollable whimpers began to depart from the younger male’s lip, as Chanyeol’s last gentle kiss landed over the most sensitive part of Baekhyun. His lips wrapped around its shape and slowly traced down.

At that moment, Baekhyun’s curved back could no longer touch the bedsheet. His fingers tugged onto Chanyeol’s messy locks.

Park Chanyeol was driving him crazy.

Yet Baekhyun could only cry in frustration when the warmth of Chanyeol’s mouth suddenly departed, only to seal his voice with another sensual kiss. “Not yet.” The older male whispered between a swift moment of separation. A finger slid against the line of Baekhyun’s spine until it reached the entrance of that delicate place. At the same time, Chanyeol reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a small plastic bottle, along with a row of condoms.

Baekhyun’s chest rose up and down with desire.

“What day is it tomorrow?” He breathlessly murmured.

“Sunday.”

“Oh.”

Chanyeol leaned down and placed a kiss over Baekhyun’s moist forehead. “I’ll be gentle.” He whispered. “I promise.”

One finger, then a second one, and finally a third. When Baekhyun powerlessly moaned against the feverish touch, Chanyeol’s other hand fondly cradled his head as his lips drew intimate patterns down the younger male’s pale neck.

“A-ah! Please slow down.” Pleaded Baekhyun, who felt the other’s fingers from below being replaced by something much larger. Chanyeol instantly looked up and gave him a comforting kiss.

But despite the soft gesture, delicate tears still slid away from Baekhyun’s glassy eyes when the older male thrusted inside. His arms tightly circled around Chanyeol’s neck as curled fingers clung onto firm back. Baekhyun could no longer hold back his voice. 

Chanyeol’s embrace felt immensely safe, when a string of gentle whispers also landed at the younger male’s ear. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

With each tear that disobediently rolled down the side of Baekhyun’s face, Chanyeol tenderly wiped it away with a fond kiss. 

“I’m still not used to this.” Softly whimpered Baekhyun against the other’s caress.

Chanyeol replied with gentle adoration, “Let’s take our time. It will get better.”

As the sheets further tangled beneath them, while the moon and the stars gradually shifted against the dark sky, the two of them moved in a ready rhythm that matched the speed of their heartbeats. And then at last, everything in the world paused. The two of them panted in unison before Baekhyun sealed their swollen lips together once again. He felt Chanyeol softly chuckle against the kiss.

“What’s wrong?” The younger male questioned innocently.

Chanyeol grinned. “Nothing in particular. Just thought that you are very lovely.”

Baekhyun cheekily pouted. “Well, it only took you five years to realise.”

“I was an idiot.”

“Still is. But, so am I.”

The both of them laughed together in each other’s embrace.

~~~

It was in spring when they first met. It was in spring when they met once again.

Yet just as the world spun in its endless cycles, and droplets of sunlight glimmered between the gaps of white lilac petals, there were two people with endless smiles as they saw their reflections within a world of warmth in each other’s eyes.

One of them was Byun Baekhyun, and the other was Park Chanyeol.

\------

_ Dear my precious son, _

_ I am terribly sorry to say that by the time your aunt has given you this letter, I am no longer by your side on this earth. You see, ever since my first heart attack I thought of writing something like this, because life can be abrupt, and you never really know when your final breath will occur. So here is everything I wish to convey to you if I suddenly disappeared one day, before I can muster the courage to tell you all this in person. _

_ I’m sorry that I am such a horrible father. Of all the times that I could’ve spent with you, I placed my work as my first priority. All of that was my fault, and there is no need for you to forgive me. Yet despite how prideful I am, I have to admit in much defeat that the first time being a father isn’t easy. So thank you, for tolerating with such a horrible dad for so many years. _

_ Although I have never said this to you in person, I am so incredibly proud of the wonderful person you have become. Just like your lovely mother, you hold a kind heart that radiates warmth to everyone around you, and I honestly cannot be more grateful in the world to have you as my dear son. _

_ I know we never spoke much about ourselves to one another, especially as you grew older, but there are just some things that a parent knows even without you telling them. As your father, I will cheer for all the decisions you make and all the paths you choose to enter, just as long as you never cease to smile.  _

_ Thank you for making sure to call me each week. Although, it would have been nice if you came back a little more. Then again, it was probably also my fault for never visiting you in Seoul. _

_ But the most important thing I wish to convey to you Chanyeol, is don’t be afraid to love. Don’t leave the same regret as your foolish old man. _

_ And make sure to smile a lot more, because that blank face really doesn’t suit you. _

_ Dad, who loves you immensely _

\-------

“Hey Chanyeol.”

“Yes Baekhyun?”

“Would you think it’s foolish if I ask you to open an atelier with me one day once my hand completely heals?”

“Why on earth would you even ask that? Because that will be the best thing to occur in my life! Well, that is, aside from meeting you. My adorable little fool.”

\-------

[Thank you for reading ❤︎]


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